


A Secret Growing

by LordFlausch



Series: araignée du soir [6]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 06:33:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12227508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordFlausch/pseuds/LordFlausch
Summary: Tracer gets close to finding out about your relationship, and someone waits for you at home.





	A Secret Growing

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry it took so long to write another OS for this series, but it may please you to hear the next ones will be coming sooner.

Tracer grins at you, almost with a smirk, raising both of her eyebrows. At the same time, that amber stare is clearly on you, and you wonder if Amélie can hear your conversation. Possibly, yes. In any way, you're in a hell lot of an awkward situation.

“... would you believe me if I said I stumbled and somehow ended up catapulting a piece of plastic there?”

“That does sound kind of like something that may happen to you, but no. This little something on your neck looks an awful lot like a hickey to me.”

You avert your eyes, even more embarrassed. You try to form a somehow plausible excuse, but... nothing.

“Your silence is oddly affirmative.”

A blush rises to your cheeks, and you open your mouth to say something, anything.

“Your cheeks tell the truth, love!”

You sigh and run a hand through your hair, giving up as nothing would get Tracer off of her terrifically correct path.

“Fine. You're right.”

Your friend blinks in surprise, not having expected you to give in that easily, before her gaze gets sharp and curios.

“Tell. Me. Everything. Who, when, where, why.”

“Can we go somewhere less public for that?”

_More like somewhere where my lover hasn't got to witness my utter exposure she'd definitely take a form of humorous sadistic joy in._

Tracer grins in success, seemingly quite giddy to the prospect of knowing a lot more soon. She grabs your hand and drags you in a direction you know – her favorite cafe she loves to spoil Emily in when she takes her out there. And you have to admit, their beverages and baked goods are amazing to the tongue and every other sense.  
When she isn't looking at you, you turn your eyes in the direction of the gaze you felt all the time, spotting Amélie on a roof. You assume she's watching through her visor and smile at her, blowing a kiss with just your mouth. Your imagination gives enough to make out her response, a roll of her eyes followed by a small chuckle. She probably won't follow, at least you kinda hope that.  
After a while, you have to turn back so Tracer won't notice a thing, but glance back as soon as you can, right before she drags you around a corner. But no one is in sight then.  
Although you feel a pang in your heart then – which is somehow amusing but still understandable as you have been hooking up for ages, but only are in a “real” relationship since two days before yesterday – you are okay with her being not totally visible in the open anymore, as it has it's risks and also, you know that when the moment comes she wants to be with you, she'll come to your place as soon as she can.  
Your friend comes to a stop in front of the cafe, and you open the door to hold it for her.

“Thanks, love.”

“No problem.”

“It's just usually I'm the one to hold the door.”

“I'm not Emily.”

“And I'm not your secret hickeymaker.”

_Don't laugh at this coincidence of titles. Don't laugh._

You take a moment to compose yourself before you reply, which Tracer – thank goodness – sees as a short time to get the control for holding in a sigh.

“But still, holding the door is a thing of politeness.”

“Exactly.”

“We won't be getting a consensus on that, hm?”

“Nope. I say we play rock, paper, scissors every time before we get somewhere, but that rule does not apply if one of us takes along a date, okay?”

“Then the one with a date will hold the door to show good manners. Deal.”

You realize you've been blocking the entrance, but your very important best friend discussion has been more important up to then. Taking a seat in a small secluded corner, you gesture for your friend to wait with the questions for now, at least until you've gotten your drinks. She nods understandingly, so after you've ordered, you take the time to relax and come up with ways to tell her enough to be okay, but without giving away too much.  
The waiter brings your steaming cups, and taking a sip of the godly appealing brew, you sigh and then look at Tracer, who eyes you expectantly.

“Ask whatever you want.”

“Who. When. Where. Why.”

You awkwardly scratch your neck, forgetting the scarf for the second that would lead to shock as the cloth gets loosened and falls off, so all the bite marks and hickeys Amélie left during the weekend are to be seen in their colorful glory, ranging blue and red and green, some already faded a bit to yellow, but not too much, she made sure they'd last a good while.  
Tracer sucks in a gasp, mouth agape, before her hand flies to cover her mouth.

“Honestly love, I can't decide what I should say to this.”

You almost groan in embarrassment.

“Go ahead.”

“On the one hand, the sight kinda shocks me. You know, not even I have left that much on Emily.”

“TMI. Please don't make me imagine my best friend doing certain things.”

Tracer giggles, partially to your comment, partially to what she'd be saying.

“On the other hand... you sure have a pretty... let's say... dominant lover.”

You groan this time, asking yourself if there is a hole somewhere you can just jump in right now.

“Speaking of which, I'm even more curios right now. You better start talking.”

“Okayokay. There's that woman I've been hooking up with for a few months now and we kinda fell for each other in the process...”

“And you've not once told me?”

_No, because you will have my head on a silver platter if you ever find out who she is._

“I was kinda afraid. I mean, neither of us was very intent on someone to find out.”

“Why that?”

“Her... her family doesn't like Overwatch a lot.”

“You mean it would be dangerous for her if someone found out?”

“Yeah. Very. I wanted to keep risks at bay.”

“I understand that, love. Where did you meet each other?”

“To be completely honest, I met her during a battle with Talon. She was trying to support them – due to her family – and I thought her to be a civilian. Remember that earthquake?”

“That was like almost half a year ago!”

“See, I saved her because she was unconscious, and brought her out of danger. Her family tried to shoot me though... well.”

“That's why you were late.”

“Exactly.”

“But why didn't you tell?”

“I was scared I did something wrong.”

“Oh... I see. And how have you gotten together?”

“She was at my door one night. One thing led to another.”

You shrug, kinda satisfied with the lies. Not too far away from the truth, but still good enough for no one to suspect Amélie.  
Tracer smiles empathically.

“May I know her name?”

“I'd rather not tell. It's... too unique. I'm scared to get her into danger.”

“Does she hate Overwatch as well?”

“I don't suppose so.”

You really didn't. Maybe she was emotionless and cold, but you were somehow sure of that. If she really had hated Overwatch passionately, she would've already used you to hurt them. Or wouldn't have come to your place at all.

“Well, if I may ever know, I'll be happy to know. Maybe we can go on a double-date when it fits once!”

_HAHAHAHAHA. NO. NO NO NO NO. A DEFINITE NO._

“Maybe.”

“Sounds good. Just hit me up then, yeah?”

“I will. If it works.”

Which it won't ever.

“Sooo... more questions about her. Is she pretty?”

“Beautiful.”

“May I ask for details?”

“Hmmm, I'll try. She's got long, dark hair, pale skin, a body that makes you want to call her mistress, striking eyes and she's always perfectly manicured.”

“A good thing, eh?”

“Yup.”

You wink, and Tracer chokes on her tea, to which you giggle shortly.

“She's got some tattoos as well, but like, only ones that make her look great, but not too... what was the word...”

“I get what you mean, love. So okay, she looks great. How about her personality?”  
to crack her shell, but she's amazing beneath.”

“Okay I get it, you're totally smitten and in love.”

“Yeah... sorry, I'm not too comfortable talking about this, I'm worried I'll say too much.”

“You know you can trust me.”

“I know, but sometimes, your mouth is faster than your mind and you do let something slip. No hard feelings tho.”

“I know love... I'm sorry. I'm just so curious, but I understand.”

“Thanks Lena. I'm sorry myself.”

Tracer smiles gently and pats your shoulder.

“It's okay, love. If you ever want to talk though, you know you have me.”

“You're the best friend ever, Lena.”

“Thank you.”

You smile, and she smiles back.

_One day, I will try to tell her. But not now._

You finish, pay and get up and out of the cafe, with you obviously putting the scarf back in place, and then head to work together for a few hours. There isn't much to do in Overwatch today, you just read a few reports and send some data coming from them to the responsible departments that may have use for them, but even so, that is tough as some people are literally insufferable today, stressed and frustrated, letting it out on you. After you've made sure everything is dealt with, you poke your head into Tracer's office.

“Heya. I'm done for the day, you?”

“I need to organize a few things, but I'll be fine. I'm glad you're done though!”

“Alright, thank you. I'll be on my way then. Enjoy your evening and say hi to Emily from me, okay?”

“Will do so. You want to come to dinner at some point?”

“I'd love to. Talk about it tomorrow?”

“Sure! Now bye-bye, love!”

You chuckle and offer a smile she returns.

“See you tomorrow!”

You close her office door behind you, and walk back to your apartment with a smile. You are not too sure whether Amélie will be there – you hope so though – but anyway, the prospect of being home again is nice. You enjoy the calm breeze and walk ahead, smiling when your complex gets into view. The lights are on in your windows. Someone is waiting for you.  
You head into the building and up, and you unlock the door, stepping inside. When you've closed it behind you again, she's there, in the hallway, a rare soft smile on her face. You smile back, kinda giddy to see her, and chuckle to yourself while stepping out of your shoes and taking your coat off, putting all in their respective places before walking up to Amélie and hugging her once.

She visibly tenses, so you immediately pull back and look at her, concerned.

“Are you okay?”

“Not used to such contact.”

“I'm sorry. Shall I keep from doing this?”

“Non... just give me a while.”

You nod, pecking her cheek once.

“We still have to set a few things about this anyway.”

“This?”

She smirks a bit, and one of her eyebrows is raised.

“Our relationship.”

“Oui.”

She shakes her head slowly, and you take her hand and squeeze it once.

“If it helps you, this all is new to me as well.”

She smiles awkwardly for not even a second, but nods nevertheless. You still stand close to each other, very close, and you cup her cheek to turn it towards you, leaning up and kissing her. She kisses back almost immediately, the raw hunger you're used to replaced by something more affectionate. It's gentle, and while unusual, it feels amazing. You hum and press closer, feeling her shift a bit as well to deepen the kiss more, her tongue dragging over your lips. You soon answer with your own, pressing it against hers and moving together. Nevertheless, she presses forward, pushing you against a wall and pinning you against it with her body, a leg between yours.

“I thought we wanted to make dinner...”

You mumble into her lips, feeling her smirk before she pulls back, whispering words that set all kinds of imagination in your head.

“Who says you can't be my dinner, chérie?”

A blush rises to your cheeks as you avert your gaze, and she chuckles, that dark and low sound that practically makes you melt.

“Please.”

Your voice is calm and steady, and she nods shortly, moving back from you and turning around. You hug her from behind, kissing the skin just above the collar of her shirt.

“Don't think I don't want to, okay? We can do everything in that way later. I just had a hard day and we still need to talk. Let's do that first?”

“D'accord, chérie.”

She turns around and you smile at her.

“This isn't easy for you, is it?”

She shakes her head once.

“Non.”

“Do you trust me?”

“More than most people I know.”

You smile at her fondly, as that answer warms your heart a bit.

“What do you want for dinner?”

She blinks in surprise, as your question catches her off-guard a little.

“I don't care.”

“I've seen a recipe for potato pancakes somewhere online. Would you mind trying?”

“Not at all.”

She smiles once, and gathering courage, you want to ask her if she wants to help, but she just comes over in the kitchen and grabs a pan, smiling at you.

“Don't bother asking, chérie.”

“I love you.”

You had to say it, as in that moment, the feeling had floated through you, a sudden and intense warmth, almost overwhelming. She just chuckles and shakes her head.

“Foolish girl.”

She bends down and kisses your forehead, and you wrap your arms around her in a short embrace that only lasts for a moment.

“What will we need?”

“Potatoes, eggs, a bit of flour and a tiny hint of salt. Oil for the pan. What do you want on the side? Sugar? Applesauce?”

“I'll give both a try if you have it, chérie.”

“I do.”

You take out the ingredients you need, making sure what you have will be enough for two. Amélie is watching the entire time, patiently waiting whether you give her something to do. You get two graters from a shelf – lucky that you'd once lost one and bought a new, but then found it again – and hand one to her with a potato. She smiles and begins rubbing it against the side, the pieces falling onto the plate you've set beneath. You do the same, and as she finishes a bit earlier than you, she starts heating the oil in the pan while you mix the eggs, flour and salt into the potatoes, making a simple batter.

“Let me do the frying, chérie.”

“Okay.”

You give her the bowl and she puts spoonfuls of the yellow mass into the pan, the sizzle and smell getting stronger as the food gets ready. While she's working on that, you set the table for two and put sugar and applesauce on as well. When you're done, you turn around to watch her.

“The look suits you.”

“Hm?”

“You look good while you're cooking. Relaxed and concentrated. It's... attractive.”

You have to admit the last word of that was more of a mumble than anything else. She chuckles.

“Do you like to cook?”

She seems taken aback by your question, taking a moment to think about the answer.

“I don't get to do it often... but I suppose.”

“How about we do it together more often?”

“I like the idea, chérie.”

You smile at her, and catch her eyes as she looks back at you. The look in them is amazing. She looks more like Amélie Lacroix than ever before, calm and amused, content with the situation. You look into each other's eyes for a little longer than necessary, until a splash of boiling hot oil on her hand reminds her there's a task at hand.

“Merde!”

She turns around the pancakes, wiping away the drop with her other hand.

“And you say I shouldn't curse.”

The look in her eyes is dark when she turns around, but not cold. Instead it's more dominant, although you can also see humor. When she talks, her voice has a small seductive undertone, sounding like a purr that makes a part of your knees weak.

“I don't know if I will punish you for that, chérie.”

“Dinner first. And talking.”

“Hmmm... maybe we should skip the latter.”

You shake your head determinedly, looking into her eyes.

“We spent almost the entire weekend having sex and ordered takeout to eat, only sleeping when we had to. We have to set a few things. Please.”

She sighs, but nods nevertheless, taking out the pancakes and setting them on the plate on top of the finished ones.

“Fine.”

“Please don't be mad.”

“I'm not. I just... nothing.”

“Would it be okay if I hugged you right now?”

She nods, and you take the steps forth and pull her into an embrace. She hugs back this time, but lets go shortly after, kissing your forehead again.

“Let's eat, shall we?”

You smile in response and take the plate, setting it on the table. You give some of the pancakes to you and some to her, adding applesauce, which she does as well. You wink once, grinning.

“Bon appetit.”

She chuckles and rolls her eyes, but averts her gaze down, smiling.

“Your accent is... cute.”

Now it's your turn to look down, a slight blush covering your face.

“Thank you.”

You can hear her chuckle again, and she nudges your leg with hers below the table. You nudge back and look at her, and she winks in response.

“Bon appetit, chérie.”

“Can you stop that?”

“What?”

“Everytime you say something in French, it sounds kinda hot. Stop confusing my sexuality.”

The look on her face to that is so priceless you can't help but laugh, and after a while, you hear a low giggling sound from her, and she covers her mouth with her hand when she starts laughing for real. The next few moments are spent like this together, and you're not even really able to tell what is so funny about this, but you don't care. Her laugh sounds amazing. It calms after a while, and you take deep breaths to compose yourself, although you still have the urge to start again when you look at her.

“And here I thought you were pretty aware of that.”

“I'm gay.”

She winks at you.

“Glad to hear that, chérie.”

You chuckle again, and then, finally, you begin eating together, sharing an occasional glance and sometimes nudging your legs below the table. It's nice to do this together, feels like a normal day in this totally not normal relationship.

“This tastes amazing.”

She only nods in response, chewing on her pancake and waiting until her mouth is empty to reply.

“Indeed.”

“We've done good.”

You get a smile, and no further words are needed for the two of you during the rest of dinner, enjoying it in calm quiet, the meal as well as the presence of one another. After you finish, you set everything back as it was, tidying up the kitchen as well. You move to the couch in the living room and sit down, patting the spot next to you for Amélie to take a seat. You see her closing her eyes for a moment before she sits there, taking your hand.

“What do you want to talk about, chérie?”

“How we can do this... It's not like this relationship is normal.”

She nods, seemingly understanding where you're going with this.

“It is not usual for me to talk about this, chérie.”

“I know, and I'd understand if you need time to get to everything. But we spent the weekend together – well, mostly fucking, but also being around for longer than an evening for the first time – and just... I wanna know what you want with me.”

“Easily said, I...”

She hesitates, and it's clear to be seen she really feels awkward.

“Do you need some time before we talk about this further?”

A nod.

“I'm sorry for pressing.”

She smiles and shakes her head, just taking you into her arms out of own accord, something that surprises you, but you don't complain. You wait for her to say something, patient, not trying to force anything, and you just kiss the place closest to you – a spot between her throat and collar. Her skin is soft and cool, as almost always. Then, you cuddle back against her.

“Whatever I may do, chérie...”

She takes a deep breath and composes herself.

“I love you. It's unusual for me to feel that, frankly, I'm scared of it.”

She whispers the next words, clenching you tighter and letting the breath out into your hair.

“Look where it brought me last time.”

You pull her closer as well, kissing the same spot again, letting one of your hands wander up her arm and shoulder, then back down, a try to comfort without words.

“I'm aware it won't be easy, but I'm willing to do my best for you, Amélie. Whatever challenge we'll face, we'll face it together, okay? Maybe we're enemies out there, but in here, we are together.”

She chuckles a bit, and pecks you for just the split of a moment.

“Stop that mushy stuff, you foolish girl.”

You chuckle as well to that.

“Maybe I did go overboard, but I meant it.”

She nods simply, not saying more. You spend the next few minutes in a silence that seems a bit stifling, so you try and gather up the courage to speak again.

“How about we exchange phone numbers?”

“Quoi?”

“You understood correctly. Maybe just... maybe it'll help to keep in touch so you won't come in unfitting. Imagine I won't be there or, worse, Lena a- Tracer is here for dinner.”

She chuckles, but doesn't press into the topic. As much as you love her, if she knows about Tracers girlfriend and somehow Talon finds out... well.

“You don't have to worry about that. Fine, you'll get my number, but we have to keep the messages simple in case Sombra tries anything.”

“So no cheesy declarations of love there.”

“Not if you like to live.”

She says it quite serious, but a small amused hint is in her voice as well.

“Alright. Please tell me when you get out on missions though.”

“You too.”

“How about when we meet... outside, on a battlefield?”

“I will try not to hit.”

“And I won't even shoot. I can say I was too surprised and you took off.”

She nods, you feeling the movement against your head. You turn around in her arms, climbing onto her lap and kissing her softly, your hands interlocked in her neck and hers around your waist. It's gentle again, nothing aggressive and rapturous, and you lean your forehead against hers at some point, interrupting the kiss. You look into her eyes and smile, but her gaze hardens.

“Chérie, if something just remotely mushy leaves your lips right now, I will punish you.”

Her voice is hard on the one hand, but also amused, and the slight hint of a seductive purr lies beneath what is said. You smile and bump her nose with yours, whispering the next words.

“We don't need to have sex every time we meet.”

She smiles fondly, pecking you once.

“I know, chérie.”

You kiss her again, this time lasting for a bit longer, but still it remains innocent. She lets herself fall to the side, taking you with her... and you thoroughly enjoy that she kinda initiated cuddling. You spend a while like this together, the only sounds being your breaths and the rustle of clothes when hands drag over them to stroke another. Nevertheless, Amélie's hand finds her way under your shirt, her cool fingers drawing patterns on your back. You hum contently, pressing your body closer to hers using the arm you have draped over her side, nuzzling your face to her collar, your head tucked under her chin. 

“This is nice.”

“Hm?”

“Just being here with you. It's the longest time I had you up to now.”

She chuckles, the sound vibrating through your body.

“Don't get used to it. It won't be possible too often, chérie.”

“I know, but it's still nice.”

She kisses the top of your head, and you enjoy the small gestures of affection you get from her that show you aren't just someone to have sex with anymore, but indeed a lover. You kiss her clavicle, her jaw and final lean up to share a soft kiss before cuddling closer again.

“Hey, Amélie?”

“What is it, chérie?”

“I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> *is proud or herself for writing this partially on her phone*
> 
> French translations:
> 
> D'accord - Okay  
> Merde - Shit  
> Quoi - What


End file.
